


Taking The Next Step

by mansikka



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Insecure Alec Lightwood, M/M, Nervous Alec, POV Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11596581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Alec talks himself into trying to progress things with Magnus.





	Taking The Next Step

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) very new Malec-shipper here. Not sure this counts as a 'fix it', not sure if the scene in 2x7 was the product of a poor editing choice, or an interpretation that didn't tick (any of) the right boxes, but this is my contribution either way.
> 
> :) x

In the aftermath of the whirlwind that was their first kiss, and the storm that came crashing down after, Alec knows that he’s got to keep making the decisions that count. There’s too much at stake here if he flounders; it’s like now he’s allowed himself to feel even a fragment of what he thinks he truly does for Magnus, that all the blurred images that were once his rigid world have been wiped clear, and everything is a sharper, brighter contrast than he’s ever dared imagine.

But what’s more important, what’s become bigger than all of that, in all that time _after_ , is the responsibility he now holds in his hands; maybe, he corrects, more accurately in his heart. Because after all that pausing, all that lashing out when things were overwhelming, now he’s dared allow himself to have a taste, there is no way to resist the need to lean in for it just once more, time and time again. And he couldn’t live with himself if he pulled away from Magnus now, even for a second, even in a moment of doubt; because Magnus is too important, too luminescent to ever have to be smudged with the undignified shade of his awkward hesitation, of not knowing how to start. 

They’ve been dancing; oh, how long have they been dancing. One of them will step forward to claim a kiss, a touch, a smile meant only for the other, and the other will then follow, only to pull back again, then lead with his own routine. It’s dizzying, this need that swells in him, more absorbing than anything else Alec has ever felt, and coupled with the knowledge, the unyielding certainty of knowing that he is wanted back, well, that’s a little intoxicating.

But he can’t misstep, he can’t hesitate for too long, can’t bear to be the one that taints even a fraction of Magnus’ smile, because he is too bright, too vibrant, to be anything but happy. It shouldn’t be allowed; Alec _will_ not allow it, and more important than perhaps anything else, he will not be the one to ever tarnish that smile again. He’s done it too often, both meaning and not meaning to, too wrapped up in his own confusion to ever be good enough for what Magnus might be wanting with him. 

But Magnus _does_ want him, that much is clear; he’s never been shy with his affection or intention, so it’s a little surprising for Alec when he reaches out, only to see Magnus’ eyes widen a fraction in alarm, before he takes a stumbling step back from him. 

Magnus never stumbles. And Alec never wants to be the one that makes him stumble; Magnus is too steady, too rightfully sure of himself to let such an unwieldy creature as himself be the one that knocks the backs of his knees, the air from his lungs. The spark from his eyes.

Is he wrong, Alec asks himself? Is this step he’s proposing too much too soon, or a move that was never destined to happen? 

 _Worry_ , he hears, and _vulnerable_ , and it’s laced with self-doubt, self-preservation, and so much contradiction; it’s like the want is there, lurking right behind Magnus’ irises, but beneath his skin he’s twitching, churning. Fearful to reach out, fearing to take, in case he’s pushed away, permanently this time.

Alec wants this; does Magnus not already know how much he wants this? Can he not tell by the tremble in his lip, the quake of his shoulders, that he wants this, _him_ , so very badly, yet is half-terrified to reach for it as well?  

In the time Alec has known him, Magnus has become an anchor, a port in a storm, a safe haven when the world is too much, and the rain of that world comes thundering down to drown him. But he’s also the spark that ignites him, the curve in Alec’s smile, the beating of his heart in ways he hadn’t dare ever imagine he’d get to feel, to experience in his life. 

And for all of that, for all that Magnus has done for him, all Alec has to offer in return is himself, which he does, freely, willingly, truthfully. Yet Magnus never pushes, never demands even a fraction beyond what Alec is bearing to him at any time. So how could Alec not want this with him? How could Alec not want to know him, in every way there is to know him, in all the ways he’s been daring to fantasise about? He just needs to do this, to keep his hands steady, to let go of himself enough to reach out and take, to offer that next step. 

This calls for bravery, a courage that Alec’s not sure he’s really wielding. But he wants this, in fact, he thinks he needs it, that they both need it; maybe if he can surrender his fear of falling, and Magnus can lose his doubt of ever being caught, then they will meet somewhere in the middle. And that loneliness that swells in his gut, that he’s sure he’s seen peering out the corners of Magnus’ eyes; maybe they can lose that too. Maybe they can bolster each other.

What better way to find out? What better time than now?

He has to keep going, Alec tells himself, he has to keep pushing, because if he pauses for even a second, that strength and certainty he’s pretending to feel will crash and crumble, and if he steps back, for even a moment, maybe he’ll see in Magnus’ eyes that this, he, is not really what he wanted after all. Not for more than a frivolity, a passing moment, a shiny new thing to brighten one of his endless days before discarding him again.

He can’t be that, Alec tells himself, he is not that. But what he is, is terrified; how can it be possible to feel so many emotions all at once? Is this what they always warned him against? Not that emotions could make you weak, but that they would overwhelm you; blur into and over one another, until you have no sense of time or meaning, when you are trying to feel, and be, everything, all the versions of yourself, all at the same time? 

Across the threshold of the bedroom, Magnus smiles, delighted as he steps back just enough to really look at him, gripping tight enough to reassure Alec that this is necessary for him as well. It is freeing, to be on the receiving end of such beautiful certainty, to stare it down as though it is a sun he knows is going to burn him, but Alec is sure he won’t ever mind being forever scorched by. Not by Magnus, and not like this; not when he’s leaning in to kiss him all over again, and the door slams closed behind them, and his heart sings at the knowledge that it is coming home.


End file.
